Hakone and Mount Fuji, Japan
Something I was keen to do while in Japan was visit an onsen. The Japanese equivalent of a communal hot spring, they often use geothermally heated water, with all the rich minerals and health benefits that come with it. Oh, and you have to be fully naked.
We headed to the little spa town of Hakone, which sits near the point where two tectonic plates meet, causing all sorts of geological knock on effects, one of which is the dormant volcano known as Mount Fuji, and another is the local groundwater being heated up to a toasty 80°C.
Mount Fuji is a big deal in Japan. It’s a symbol of the country, a significant mountain for Buddhists and Shinto followers, as well as being a very impressive mountain in its own right. One notable place to view Mount Fuji on a clear day is from the ‘Hakone Loop’, which is your standard combination of bus, train, cable car, funicular and pirate ship. Each section of the circular route gives you a different view of the hot springs, geothermal vents and volcanic lakes, as well as Mount Fuji itself.
We tend to try to avoid anything overly touristy, but as the Hakone Loop was meant to be such a convenient way to see the area, we caught a bus to Lake Ashi to await the first pirate ship of the day. We were lucky, and the early mist had cleared, revealing Mount Fuji in all its glory against a bright blue sky. It’s a brilliant-looking mountain, with its little snow cap perched at the top of the perfectly conical slopes. We stood at the water’s edge and looked at Fuji, framed by the green forests and a little red torii gate in the water. It was absolutely perfect.
A school trip boarded the boat at the same time, and it was reassuring to see that, despite the calm and order in much of the country, Japanese schoolchildren are just as mischievous as their UK equivalents, getting up to all sorts of silly behaviour on the pirate ship and getting barked at by stern teachers.
As well as picturesque views of Mount Fuji, I was surprised at how much volcanic activity we could see from the Hakone Loop. From the cable car leg, you could look down as jets of sulphuric steam burst from vents in the earth, staining the nearby rock a vivid yellow. It’s very much an active area and you’re advised to wear masks to filter the air. Every post and building is adorned with loudspeakers and sirens, ready to announce an evacuation at a moment’s notice. Despite the inevitable dangers of the volcanic area, this has not stopped tourism, with one section of the Hakone Loop where you can buy packs of eggs, onsen tamago, cooked in the hot sulphuric water that lies under the mountain. Nicola was less than keen for me to eat four eggs in the confined space of a cable car, so we continued on loop to finish the tour.
Back in our hostel in Hakone, and having reached our fill of tourist traps for the day, we asked the front desk where the best nearby onsen for locals was. It’s just up the hill, we were told, so we picked up our small towels and went to investigate.
We paid £3 each to enter the Onsen and after reading the poster to scrub up on our onsen etiquette, we went into our separate areas: men to the left, women to the right. A pristine changing room, spotless lockers and a quick change later, I undressed and washed before wandering through to the pool area. They were superb. I sat there bubbling away in the hot water, moving from pool to pool of varying temperatures. Local people came and went, chatting to one another, some dozing, some sat contentedly in the water alongside me. We had agreed to meet after an hour, which absolutely flew by, so I reluctantly climbed out of the steaming pool and dripped my way back to the changing room. I met Nicola back at the entrance, and was pleased to hear she’d had a similarly naked-but-zen experience, and we walked back to our hostel very relaxed, cleansed and content.
In the hostel lobby there was a Spanish woman who was about to leave Hakone, having bought a four pack of volcanic eggs at the top of the mountain. She apparently couldn’t face eating them, so offered one to me – it was jet black, delicious and had a slight sulphuric tang. Golden travel rule: never say no to a free egg.
